Disconnected
by Fingersnaps
Summary: Written for fallenangel218 as part of the NFA Secret Santa exchange, she asked for Tim angst and a Tim/Gibbs conversation, this is what I came up with. Tim finally gets to talk to Gibbs in a basement, no, not that one...


25

His eyes were open, he was sure they were, so why couldn't he see? His breath hitched in his throat, was he blind? The last thing he remembered was falling, there were steps, and he wasn't alone. Gibbs, where was he? He shook his head, too many questions, time he got some answers. Time...his watch, with trembling fingers he pressed the tiny button that illuminated the watch face, he grinned in the dark, he could see! So calm down, how long had he been down here? That was easy; it was just twenty minutes since they'd noticed the door, since they'd been sent headlong down the stairs, they...

"Boss?" He hadn't been expecting an answer, if Gibbs was down here and awake he'd have been making his presence known by now, he had to find him, and to do that he needed light. He had a flashlight app on his phone, but did he still have a phone? A thorough search of his pockets answered that question, his phone was gone, so was his gun. Okay, the only way to search was by touch, he could do that; he wasn't in pain, well not much, he was guessing he had a few bruises from his fall but it didn't seem like anything was broken. He got up on all fours and started feeling his way around the floor. "Boss are you here?" There was no answer and Tim's anxiety increased, what if...he let out a juddering breath when his hand touched something, someone. Instinctively he reached out to feel a pulse. "Thank God!" It was a little erratic, but the pulse was strong, Tim almost cried with relief and then the realisation hit him, Gibbs was unconscious, concussed, how many times had Gibbs suffered a bad concussion? Too many, and Tim had no way of checking his pupil reactions, no way of checking much of anything. He'd felt his way around Gibbs' body, grateful that his boss was out of it, he was pretty sure he'd get the head slap to end all head slaps if Gibbs woke to find Tim's hands all over him. As far as Tim could tell judging by the swelling he felt, Gibbs had a badly sprained or broken ankle, there was the concussion of course, but other than that Tim couldn't find any obvious injuries, he also hadn't felt the ominous stickiness that would indicate blood.

Tim set about making Gibbs as comfortable as possible, took off his jacket and folded it into a makeshift pillow; he needed a bandage for Gibbs' ankle...his knife, had they left his knife? Tim fumbled for his belt and almost laughed aloud, it was there! He took off his shirt, sliced off the sleeves and cut them into strips. He applied the bandage as best he could. "They never had us do this in the dark when I was a Boy Scout Boss, hope it's not too tight, but we have to immobilise the joint." Quietly satisfied with his handiwork Tim repeated the examination process on himself, he seemed to have got off lightly, his tumble down the stairs hadn't broken any bones and he'd only blacked out for a few minutes, winded rather than concussed. Good, now he could make a proper inspection of the room, see if there was a way out. Starting on his hands and knees he circuited the floor, the process didn't take long, the basement wasn't exactly large; they must have been using it to store some of the weapons. Tim sighed; this was all his fault, he should have warned Gibbs, told him to keep away, just lately everything he touched turned out just about as wrong as it could be. Ever since Adam Healey had spent a week on the team Tim felt like all his years at NCIS had been for nothing, that people he thought knew him, respected his work, they'd all turned against him and it had happened so fast...

Tim got to his feet, no time for wallowing in self-pity, he had a job to do, he stretched out his aching limbs and kept moving, checking the walls for any areas of weakness, when Gibbs woke up he wanted to be able to report that he'd checked everything. The walls were as solid as they could be, and after a quick check of Gibbs' pulse Tim made his way toward the steps, slowly and cautiously he made his way up to the door, eleven steps, remember that for the journey down. Very carefully, being sure to cover every inch of the doorframe he ran his fingers along the wood and metal, there was nothing to help them get out of here, no door handle, the hinges were on the other side of the door, a metal door that wouldn't yield...they were stuck here until someone came for them. Surely it wouldn't be long, Gibbs must have told someone back at NCIS where they were going, just so long as the men who'd sent them hurtling into the basement didn't return, they'd be fine, if only Gibbs would wake up.

He retraced his steps and sat down beside Gibbs, felt for his pulse again, made sure he wasn't cold, everything seemed okay, except for the fact he wouldn't wake up. "I shouldn't have come today Boss, lately...I've been a Jonah, everything I touch, it turns sour. Ever since he came, it's like the people who've worked in the same room can't stand to be around me any longer; do you see the way they look at me? No...guess not, Tony said it was all in my head...but it's not Boss, they..." Tim shivered, no surprise, without a jacket or shirt this basement wasn't the most hospitable place, he rubbed his hands vigorously up and down his arms, then wrapped his arms around his chest. "Ouch, seems like I've got a few bruises Boss, what I wouldn't give for a good hot bath." Tim leaned back against the wall and felt his eyelids growing heavy, he was tired, but he couldn't afford to sleep, what if Gibbs woke up, or if the men came back, or Tony and Ziva came for them, no wait, they were out of town interviewing Lieutenant Fowler in Newport News. He yawned, this wasn't good, he couldn't sleep. Maybe if he kept talking, he'd be able to stay awake, be ready when Gibbs woke up...

"It all started the day Tony went to New York, you remember Boss? Assistant Director Corwin insisted Tony was the best person to go on the conference; you weren't happy, but Tony couldn't wait, bright lights, big city, and the movie references, he was like a kid at Christmas. Then we got Adam Healey..." Tim sighed deeply, he'd been happy to have Adam on the team and had done everything he could to help him, told him where to get Gibbs' coffee, showed him how to behave around Ziva so he didn't have her reaching for a paperclip. "You knew his dad back in the day, I'd heard of Ron Healey, who hasn't around NCIS? The guy's a legend, sacrificed his life so two hostages could live, Adam has a lot to live up to, guess I know how that feels, wanted to make him feel welcome, help him find his way."

Tim had enjoyed his mentoring role, and he thought he'd done a good job, Adam had flourished during his week on the MCRT, and he'd thanked Tim more than once for helping him through the crime scene routines. "It's so different when you're out in the field, at FLETC everything seems so straightforward, but the real world's not like that is it?" Tim smiled in the darkness, Adam had reminded him a little of himself when he was a very green case agent in Norfolk, so eager to do right, to learn...then things had turned sour.

"Happened right after Tony got back, you were with the Director getting Tony's feedback on the conference, Adam came up to me, he was so angry, I couldn't understand why, I'd given him a first-rate report, but he stood right there in the squad room..." Tim shuddered as he recollected the heated conversation.

"You think I'm no good?"

"No Adam, I never said that, I think you did a great job, that's what I put in my report."

"Then how come I'm being shipped out to San Diego? I thought there'd be a place for me on the team!"

"Hey, calm down. That was never an option Adam, you always knew as soon as Tony came back your assignment was over."

"But you said I'd done well, fitted in..."

"You have! You've done a great job, but you were TAD, there was never any chance you'd join the team this early in your career."

"You were my age when you joined the MCRT, if it was good enough for you, why not me?"

"Because there's no vacancy, when there is maybe your name will be in the mix, but it won't be the only name, plenty of people in line ahead of you."

"What's the problem McGee, you think I'm too much competition?"

"I don't...Adam, I think you have a great future, you just have to learn a little patience."

"There's nothing I have to learn from you, you're jealous, pure and simple, my father, he was a hero, but I got where I am on my own merits, what about you, Special Agent Admiral's son!"

The last sentence had been shouted at the top of his lungs as Adam Healey hurried for the elevator, he'd left Tim speechless; if only Adam knew, his dad had never done a thing to help him in his chosen career.

Tim shivered again, was it getting colder down here? He put his hand on Gibbs' forehead, seemed warm enough, and Gibbs wasn't trembling. "I think I should walk around some Boss, too much sitting..." It was more of a struggle to get to his feet, seemed like all his bumps and bruises were protesting as he walked toward the stairs. "I'll try the door again, maybe I can cut through to the hinges, leastways it'll keep me warm."

He tried, but the wood was unyielding, the more he tried the less progress he made, all he managed to do was cut his hand and blunt his knife into uselessness. He stumbled back down the stairs, the extra physical activity hadn't helped his bruises, and he was starting to get a little concerned by the nagging pain in his shoulder, he lifted his arm and moved it this way and that, definitely not broken, or dislocated; he knew exactly what that felt like, something was wrong, but so long as he could move his arm he'd be okay.

Tim sat down, taking time to get his tall frame on the ground. "This is getting harder Boss, how much longer do you think?" He glanced at his watch, one hour and five minutes, it was too long. "Boss! Boss, you have to be okay, I...I can't screw up again. We...we're in trouble Boss, you have to wake up, I can't do this alone, please wake up."

Alone...he'd felt like he was alone through so much of what happened. It had been small things at first, not getting a smile from the guard on the security desk, being ignored when he went to the break room. Tim didn't understand what was going on until someone told him word was doing the rounds that he'd told Adam in no uncertain terms that he had no future at NCIS.

"What? I never said...why would I...?" He could see from the look on Agent Waugh's face that she didn't believe him. Tim couldn't understand it, all he'd ever done was show Adam support and encouragement, why would anyone think he'd say something so mean? Adam was a good kid, and he had a real future ahead of him, but he needed to be patient, to serve his apprenticeship.

Then Tim had made things worse by trying to talk with Adam. Their public argument in the parking lot was witnessed by several people, and the rumours started to spread. McGee was jealous, Adam was young, he was dynamic, Gibbs liked him, the NCIS hierarchy had their eye on him, and McGee didn't like all the attention the youngster was getting.

Just thinking about it made Tim feel nauseous, he didn't know how things went downhill so fast, one day he was helping a young man get his foot on the career ladder, the next he was being harangued by an Assistant Director. He'd been walking down to Abby's lab, getting the elevator lately just meant getting lots of dirty looks, but on this day his luck was out. "So Agent McGee, destroyed any more careers today?"

"Sir?" Tim knew Assistant Director Corwin had been Ron Healey's partner, and he knew just like everyone else around NCIS that Corwin took a very close interest in Adam's welfare.

"Who do you think you are McGee? You had a golden opportunity when you were promoted to the MCRT and what have you done with it? You're still a junior agent, and if you don't do something soon, you're going to stay that way 'til the day you retire. You have so little ambition, yet you're prepared to put up barriers in the way of a young man who's going places?"

"I didn't...he did good work, I put it in my report, you must have seen it."

"I saw it alright. You went back on a promise, Adam told me you said you'd put in a good word for him."

"I did! In my report"

"Damning with faint praise I call it, I wanted Adam to appeal to the Director, but he doesn't think he'll get anywhere so long as Gibbs has your back. Just remember McGee, Gibbs won't be here forever, nor will Vance, you might find yourself taking orders from Adam Healey one of these days, just think about that."

He'd stormed off leaving Tim reeling. Adam had talked with Corwin, they'd considered appealing against his report? But it was a good report, a very good one. Why couldn't they both be satisfied with things the way they were and leave him to get on with his job?

He tried to follow Tony's well meaning advice.

"Just ignore them McGee, we know you're not jealous of a young, handsome guy with a genius IQ and a GPA of 4.0."

"Gee, thanks Tony."

"Seriously Tim, the more you try to make things right, the more people think there's something in the scuttlebutt, leave it be and it'll all blow over."

Tim tried, for a few days he did his best to ignore the whispers, the pointing fingers and even the scratches on the bodywork of his car. He'd thought about getting security camera footage from the staff parking lot, find out who'd dragged their keys along his Prius, but he decided against it, what was the point; would it actually make him feel any better to know which of his colleagues thought so little of him?

"So I kept my head down, concentrated on the work, and when we got a new case I was pleased, I hated going home, lying awake, thinking about...everything. I felt like you were watching me; waiting for me to make a mistake so you could get me off the team, get Adam in...Tony called me out on that." Tim stifled a yawn that turned into a brief smile as he recollected Tony's expression that day. He'd stood in front of Tim's desk giving him a stare Gibbs would have been proud of.

"You look like hell McGee; when you go home tonight no computer stuff, milky drink, early night, you hear me?"

"Yes Mom."

"Don't mock, you know I'm right,"

"About the sleep yeah, the rest...I'm not so sure. Have you seen how he's watching me?"

"Hey McEgo, Gibbs watches us all, don't tell me you've just noticed."

"For once, Tony is right McGee, Gibbs misses nothing, perhaps he has noticed this, as we have." Ziva stood at his side and brushed her fingers along his cheekbone. "These shadows, they are a matter of concern to each of us."

Tim sighed; if Tony and Ziva were this concerned, he really must look terrible, time to take their advice. "Okay, thanks guys, tonight I'll be sure to get an early night."

"Did I walk into the wrong squad room, 'cos last time I looked I was sure we had work to do."

"On it Boss!" Tony and Ziva hurried back to their desks and Tim started hitting his keyboard as if his life depended on it. The way things were working out for him right now he should have known Gibbs would walk in at the only time in the day he hadn't been hard at work.

"Guess you know we didn't get home...Tony and Ziva drove out to Newport News and we spent the night going through the case file..."

They'd worked together most of the night; Gibbs had left briefly to get coffee and Tim concentrated on his monitor, there had to be something he'd missed. "All alone McGee? Looks like your own team can't stand to be around you, face it McGee, you're poison."

Tim didn't even look up from his keyboard, he knew the voice. Special Agent Richard Fox, he'd been one of the most vociferous rumour mongers and Tim had neither the energy nor the inclination for a confrontation. Fox had other ideas; he leaned on Tim's desk. "You deaf as well as mean McGee? Or do you only pick on kids."

"Leave it Fox; you don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh I know, everyone knows, you think you're so special because you're on Gibbs' team; just remember, what goes up must come down." He'd seemed ready to keep going but his phone sounded, he checked caller ID and headed for the stairs, leaving Tim alone once more; was that really what people thought of him, that he'd turned into some kind of bully?

"I was glad to get out of headquarters Boss, that's how bad things are, I didn't want to stay in there, everyone watching, whispering...I'd take the whispers now...it, Boss, it's been too long, why hasn't anyone come for us?"

It was getting cold, if they didn't get out of here soon, if Gibbs didn't wake up, he was about to check Gibbs again when he felt a slight movement from the man by his side. "Boss, can you hear me?"

"McGee...why are you shouting, and who switched off the lights?"

Tim kind of wished he was Abby, because right now he wanted to give Gibbs a hug. "You're awake! I...we're in trouble Boss, do you remember anything?"

Gibbs shook his head, a bad idea on two counts, one; McGee couldn't see him, and two, his head was pounding. "No...wait, the basement, we found the hidden door..." They'd come up empty in the outbuildings and the main body of the house, then Gibbs had spotted a slight flaw in the floorboards, the kind of mark that was made when an ill-fitting door scraped on the floor. They pulled aside an empty bookcase and there it was, a metal door. After that things were mixed-up. "There...someone else was in the house."

"We...guess the noise we made; we didn't hear them come in."

Gibbs took a few deep breaths; he must be getting old or careless. "They got the jump on us, huh?"

"Oh yeah. Whoa, you need to lay still Boss."

"Can't sit around here, we have to get out. "Gibbs tried to push Tim's hand aside only he didn't have the strength.

"Your ankle is broken, or sprained...not sure, and you have a concussion, you should stay still."

"Okay...how long have we been down here?"

Tim checked his watch again. "Two hours. I don't understand why no one has come looking for us."

"Give them time, they'll be here."

"I'm not so sure, I...things have been...some of the people at NCIS, let's just say I don't think they'd be sorry to know I'm in trouble."

"Are you talking about this Healey nonsense?"

"Not nonsense if you're the one everybody's talking about."

"Words can't hurt you Tim; heck if they could I'd be six feet under."

Tim sighed; he should have guessed Gibbs would be just like the others, not even trying to understand how he felt. "If you'd ever been bullied you wouldn't say that...when it feels like every time you walk into a room it starts, the looks, the whispers and then..."

For a few moments there was only the sound of their breathing.

"Tim?"

"Doesn't matter, won't change anything."

"Damn it Tim! You have to talk to me, how can I understand if you won't explain?"

Tim inhaled deeply and a spasm of pain blossomed in his chest, don't give in to it, Gibbs didn't need any more evidence of his weakness, concentrate. "You'll never understand Boss, you have to be on the outside looking in; you're always at the heart of things; me...I'm the runt of the litter, always have been. Heck, even my dad thinks I'm worthless."

Gibbs would have given anything to tell him that wasn't true, but having dealt with John McGee, and witnessed firsthand the put-downs and disrespect, he knew different. "Your dad's hard on you because he wants you to be the best you can be."

"And you think I don't want that, all my life I've tried to do my best, do right by people, and where does it get me? Dad thinks I'm a wuss, you think I'm only good for sitting at a keyboard. Abby thinks I'm her personal servant, I don't even want to know what Tony and Ziva think of me. As for everyone else at NCIS, most of them act like they never knew me..." Tim was trembling and he wasn't sure whether it was anger or the cold that had him shaking; he got to his feet, suddenly needing some distance from Gibbs. "I should check the door again, they may have come back."

Gibbs heard his footsteps on the wooden steps, if only he didn't feel so light-headed he'd get up and shake some sense into him. When did Tim decide he had no worth, and how did he miss the way he was feeling? One of his own was hurting and he'd gone on like everything was as it should be. Gibbs had always been so sure he could read people, yet the man who sat not ten yards away from him day after day had proved to be a closed book. He circled his fingers on his temples, trying to get some relief from the pain, he felt so tired, maybe while his watchdog was away he could close his eyes. A loud thud startled him back into wakefulness.

"Stupid! Can't even walk downstairs."

"Tim, you okay?"

"Oh yeah, miscounted the steps, few more bruises to add to the collection I guess. It's all quiet out there. Boss, someone from NCIS should be here by now."

"Unless our friends from upstairs stopped them."

Tim shrugged and bit back a cry of pain; must have fallen harder than he'd thought. "If they had, wouldn't they have come down here? Can't see them leaving any loose ends."

"You're right. Seems like the bang on the head scrambled my brains some." He felt Tim's cool hand on his neck. How many times had he checked? "Heart still pumping Tim?" He wished the illumination from Tim's watch was better; Gibbs wanted to get a look at him, reassure himself his companion was doing okay.

"Pulse is a little stronger, just wish we could get you to the hospital, can't be too careful with head injuries, could be a delayed reaction...Boss, you said you left word we were coming out here, who did you tell?"

"Fox, I told him to let Tony and Ziva know where we...Tim, what's wrong?" He'd heard Tim's sharp gasp and was immediately concerned.

"He...Boss, he told me...what if he didn't tell Tony?"

Gibbs laughed quietly. "That's enough Tim; he's a federal agent, I've known him most of my career, no way he'd do anything to endanger a fellow agent."

"Not so sure...You have no idea what he's been saying...going around telling everyone...damn!" Tim hurried across the floor as far away from Gibbs as he could; he knelt and shuddered through the waves of nausea as he threw up in the corner.

"Tim...Tim! Are you hurt?"

With a bitter laugh Tim made his unsteady way back to Gibbs. "Few bruises, cut my hand; nothing a Band Aid won't fix."

In a flash Gibbs was back in the bomb-ravaged squad room, the relief he'd felt at finding Tim seemingly unharmed turning to momentary panic when he saw the glass. Surely Tim had seen then how much Gibbs cared for him, for all of his NCIS family? Problem was, he hadn't followed up on it, hadn't even visited Tim in the hospital; too caught up in the case, in finding Dearing, and today, how much support was he offering Tim today? "You sound kinda breathless, you sure you're okay?"

"Never liked throwing up...always feel...Boss, I know you think I'm imagining things, but if Fox hasn't told anyone..."

"Then as soon as Tony and Ziva get back to headquarters they'll be asking questions, getting Abby to track our phones, Tim the phones!"

Tim smiled despite himself; did Gibbs really think he wouldn't check? "They took our phones, guns too...maybe Abby could trace the car, if they haven't moved it...Boss, are you warm enough, it's awful cold down here?"

Gibbs tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness sent him back to the ground. "You should take your jacket."

"No! You need something for your head...I'll be...when they come...I can get warm...when they come..."

There was the ominous sound of a body hitting the ground and Gibbs reached out blindly. "Tim! McGee, answer me!"

"'S'okay...just didn't want to...sit...need to rest...just for a minute."

"No Tim, that's not a good idea, what have you been telling me? You have to stay awake, help will be here soon; tell me about your car, you said you scraped the paintwork, Tim!"

The ghost of a bitter laugh passed his dry lips. "Not me...one of my...fellow agents..."

"Someone vandalised your car, why didn't you come to me?"

"Who would...believe me? Adam told everyone...said I was jealous...turned people against me...so fast...they wanted to...punish me. You worked with his dad...would you have believed...?"

"I didn't know Tim, why did you keep it all to yourself?"

"Thought...you're supposed to know...everything...waste of time talking...minds were made up...what could I do...or you...to change things...can't go back...maybe it's time for...for me to leave..."

Gibbs couldn't lie still any longer, very carefully, he raised himself up on one elbow and reached out again, this time he felt Tim's arm, it was ice-cold, clammy. "You're not going anywhere Tim, we're going to have a conversation; you're going to tell me everything that's happened, everything that's been said to you and when we get out of here I'm going to make things right."

"Too...late...can't stop...people thinking..."

"But I can stop them talking, make sure they know the truth. I will Tim, just give me a chance."

There was no answer; Gibbs listened to Tim's ragged breathing with increasing concern. "Tim! Come on, talk to me."

Bright light flooded the room, temporarily blinding Gibbs and causing a fresh wave of nausea.

"Boss! McGee! You down there?"

"Tony, we need medics, now!"

NCIS NCIS

"Ah, Jethro, good to have you back with us."

Gibbs took a moment to let his eyes adjust to the light, not so bright this time, and he wasn't on a hard floor any longer.

"Duck...that you?"

"It is indeed, how are you feeling? Ziva and Tony will be glad to know you're awake; they were very worried when they found you...Jethro! Lie down, you have a bad concussion, you must rest."

"Tim, where's Tim?"

"If you promise to stay still I will tell you."

Gibbs gave in to the inevitable and lay back against his pillows. "Promise, now tell."

Ducky settled back in his chair, certain now that Gibbs would stay still. "Timothy is in surgery, he...there was internal bleeding. When he got here he was in hypovolemic shock, it took some time to stabilise him, raise his core temperature."

"I knew he was too cold, told him to take back his jacket."

"I doubt it would have made much difference Jethro; his spleen was torn, blood loss was the main contributing factor to his eventual collapse, not the cold."

"He...all the time he was looking out for me, he was bleeding inside?"

"You couldn't have known Jethro, I doubt Timothy was aware of it; he had a number of bruises. I'm guessing you were not permitted the courtesy of walking down the steps." Gibbs shook his head. "As I thought, in all likelihood Timothy was aware of some pain, but dismissed it as the bruises doing their worst."

"I never...not until he was throwing up, I never thought he was hurt, not like this. Why didn't he tell me he was hurting?"

"Lessons learned at an early age I would suspect Jethro, he keeps himself very much to himself does our Timothy, not unlike a certain NCIS investigator I could mention."

"I have to see him, we need to talk."

"Not tonight Jethro, Timothy will be in surgery for a little while longer, then he will be in recovery, you should rest."

Rest, how could he rest when one of his people was in an operating room? "Duck...he will be okay?"

"No question about it, just rest Jethro, you can visit him tomorrow and you'll see for yourself."

Much as he wanted to stay awake, to get news of Tim as soon as the surgery was over, he just couldn't keep his eyes open and within seconds he'd drifted back into a deep sleep.

It was four-o-clock the next afternoon when Gibbs wheeled himself toward Tim's room. He'd baulked at having to use a wheelchair, but his doctor had laid it on the line for him. "Your ankle may not be broken, but it's a bad sprain and the best way for it to heal is for you to keep off it. You use the chair or you stay here, simple choice."

Gibbs needed to see Tim, so he got in the chair and headed along the corridor, taking the time to get his emotions under control. In between his CT scans, blood tests, every other test the hospital thought necessary and trying to get up to date news on Tim's condition, Gibbs had been getting answers to some of the questions he'd posed to his team yesterday. Tony confirmed that Fox was nowhere to be seen when they got back from Newport News, he hadn't left a message informing them where Gibbs and Tim had gone and it was only when Abby traced the agency sedan that Ziva and Tony were able to get to them.

Abby had also looked at the staff parking-lot security camera footage and had been astonished and dismayed to find it had been Assistant Director Corwin who had scraped his keys the length of Tim's car.

Director Vance had visited Gibbs already and assured him both Corwin and Fox would be dealt with. "Corwin is due to retire in two years; I'm thinking he may want to go early. Fox...I can't believe he'd leave you without back-up. His NCIS career is over."

"I don't care if he never works again; Tim could have died in that basement. Fox had no reason to do what he did; he believed a lie, and then decided to spread the poison to anyone who'd listen."

Sadly, as Tony and Ziva discovered, there were a lot of people who'd listened, not just to Fox, but to Corwin; even Adam Healey had been quick to blame Tim for what he saw as a betrayal. Gibbs was prepared to give Healey another chance, he was young, and being the son of a hero put him under a lot more pressure than most other agents would ever have to deal with. For Corwin and Fox there was no excuse, they knew Tim, knew he would never do what they accused him of, but they still hung him out to dry; Gibbs never wanted to see them again, because if he did he wasn't sure he'd be able to keep his hands off them.

He hesitated at the door, was it too soon, would Tim be ready to talk? He wouldn't find out waiting in the corridor. Gibbs pushed the door open and manoeuvred his way to the bedside. Tim appeared to be sleeping; at least his eyes were closed. Despite Ducky's updates on his condition Gibbs wasn't prepared to see Tim looking so sick. There were bruises, so many bruises, some of them already a purple so deep they were almost black, a white surgical dressing covered the incision site; there was an IV, monitors, a tube in his nose that Ducky had warned him about. "Nothing to worry about Jethro, it's a nasogastric tube, helps to prevent post-operative nausea."

He didn't want to wake him, but he couldn't hold back a whispered exclamation. "I didn't know Tim; it was so dark I couldn't see."

Tim's eyes opened so fast Gibbs knew he'd been right, Tim hadn't been sleeping. "Boss...thought afternoon visiting was over."

"I'm not a visitor; I'm a patient."

Tim took a deep breath, how could he have forgotten? "Are you okay? Yesterday...you were...I was worried."

"I'm fine, thanks to you. The doc was pretty impressed with the way you strapped my ankle, said it helped keep the swelling down. You did good work...Tim."

"Do we have to do this now?"

"We should have done it days ago, I should have seen what was happening, you should have come to me. Tim, this can't happen again, you have to talk to me."

"Oh yeah, do as I say, not as I do."

"You're right; I keep things inside, only ever really opened up to one person...it's not healthy Tim. Don't repeat my mistakes."

"It's hard to talk about...what happened. I don't even understand how things went south so fast."

"Talk to me Tim, I know some things; your car, Abby found out it was Corwin." Gibbs had expected Tim to be surprised, but he barely seemed to register the name.

"He wanted the best for Adam, everyone did...Ron Healey, he's a legend; his son's going to be an agent NCIS can be proud of...I...I put that in my report and they still didn't think it was enough." Tim was staring straight ahead, he still hadn't looked at his boss.

"Tim, if you're feeling strong enough I want you to tell me everything that happened."

"What's the point? It's all water under the bridge, they made up their minds about me, let them think what they want, I'm done..."

Gibbs felt bad forcing the issue, Tim looked like he could use some rest, but he was worried that if he didn't get Tim to talk now, he never would. "You're not done 'til I say you're done." He wheeled the chair as close as he could. "I'm not going anywhere, talk to me."

There was a long silence, then with a deep sigh Tim turned at last to look at Gibbs. "Okay, here goes nothing." Tentatively, his voice barely above a whisper Tim told Gibbs what had happened since Adam's tenure on the team finished, he held nothing back and Gibbs almost flinched in the face of such raw hurt. When he'd finished Tim even managed a brief smile. "I already told you all this, in the basement, it was...easier when you couldn't hear me."

He swallowed deeply and started to cough. Gibbs quickly poured him a beaker of water and handed it to him. "I'm hearing you now." He waited until Tim had finished drinking and took the beaker from him. "You shouldn't have dealt with all that alone, we're a team Tim, when you need help all you have to do is ask."

"I thought...at first I thought it would stop, that people wouldn't believe I could do...what they said. Boss, why would they say such bad things, they don't even know me."

"That's why they said those things Tim, because they don't know you. The people who know you, we know different."

Tim wasn't so sure. "Maybe my dad's right, Corwin too, I'll never amount to anything."

"That's enough!" Gibbs knew his recent encounter with his father had rocked Tim's confidence in his own abilities, but he'd underestimated the impact it would have on his dealings with everyone around him. "You already amount to something; you're not on the Major Case Team by accident. You're a damn good agent Tim, one of the best, having you on our team makes us better. More important than that, you're a good man, not so many of them around that I'm going to let one walk away."

Leaning back on his pillows and closing his eyes Tim took a deep breath. "Not sure I'll have a choice, if Corwin has his way I'm history."

"He's history Tim, Vance doesn't want him around NCIS any longer, Fox is done too."

"Oh great! Now people will have even more reasons to hate me."

"No one hates you, when they get to know the truth about Adam and everything else that happened, most people are going to be embarrassed and ashamed."

"I'm not so sure...Tony and Ziva, Abby, Ducky and Jimmy, I know they'll all support me, other people..."

"Are easily led sometimes, they made mistakes, heck we made mistakes, me most of all. I thought this was all what Ducky calls a storm in a teacup, but it was much more than that, and you almost paid the ultimate price because I didn't notice things had gotten out of hand."

"You can't know everything. I know Abby thinks you can, but when you're busy, when we all are...things can slip under the radar, and I guess I made things worse. It...it's not easy for me to confide in people, my dad, he always said I should suck it up, man up and move on."

"Sounds like him, how old were you the first time he told you that, seven?" Gibbs was making light of it, but only so Tim would keep talking, inside he was shaking with suppressed anger against Admiral McGee. This was his son, not one of the men under his command.

"I was six...fell off my bike, scraped my knees...he didn't like to see me cry...unmanly he said."

Gibbs bit back a bitter retort, but promised himself one thing; sick or not, if he ever saw the admiral again he was going to tell him exactly what kind of a man his son had become.

"Boss...going back to NCIS, right now I really don't see how I can face them, it was hard you know, walking into rooms and being greeted by silence, people turned their backs on me; can I work with them again, forget what was said about me?"

"I think you can Tim, because this time you won't be doing it alone. Tony and Ziva have already been telling your side of the story, and you can be sure Abby won't be keeping quiet. We took our eye off the ball for a while, but we're going to do better, all of us, and that includes you. We tell each other when we're hurting, help each other get through things."

"You too Boss?"

"I'll try Tim, some habits are hard to break, you know that, but I'm going to try. Ducky says it'll be a few weeks before you're back at work, take the time, think it through, and while you're getting well, the rest of us will be putting a few things right at the Navy Yard."

Tim wasn't sure what to make of all this, maybe it was the effects of the pain medication, but he was pretty sure he'd never seen Gibbs this...open before. Could Gibbs be right, could he go back and work around the people who'd turned against him, judged him without evidence...?

"Come on Tim, be the bigger man, don't let them force you out of a job you love."

Tim lay quiet, being careful not to make eye contact with Gibbs, he had thought the kind of treatment he'd received at NCIS the last week or so was a thing of the past. His whole life he'd dealt with people who wanted to put him down, convince him he was no good, if he walked away from NCIS now they would all win. It wouldn't be easy; some of the people who'd been so quick to turn against him were those he'd be encountering on a daily basis. Would he be able to face them, to go on working with them knowing they'd been so quick to judge him? Only one way to find out.

"Okay...I never did like letting the bullies get the better of me...I'll give it a try."

Gibbs didn't try to hide his delight. "That's great news Tim."

"We'll see...Boss, thanks for stopping by, talking it through, it helped a lot." He grinned. "Never heard you talk so much."

Gibbs' smile got even wider. "I didn't think staring at you for hours was going to get the job done."

The door opened and a nurse stepped purposefully into the room. "Agent McGee, I need to check your dressing."

"Looks like I'm getting kicked out Tim." In a totally unexpected gesture Gibbs reached out and squeezed Tim's hand. "Get some rest, get well; and don't worry, we won't let anyone mess with your computer."

Tim gave a tired smile. "Thanks Boss...for everything."

EPILOGUE

He sat at his desk, his hands flying across the keyboard; it was so good to be here, three weeks at home had almost driven him crazy. Once he was out of the hospital he'd been eager to get back, keen to get the inevitable awkwardness out of the way as quickly as possible. So far things hadn't been too bad, after visiting Abby's lab and getting a rib-crushing hug, he'd made his way to his desk and had received warm hellos and welcoming smiles. He wasn't expecting plain sailing all the way, some people would always harbour residual resentment over the way things turned out, but he was stronger now, secure in the knowledge that the people who really mattered knew he'd done nothing wrong.

"Agent McGee."

Tim shook his head, had he heard right? This was the last voice he expected to hear today. "Adam, this is..."

"Awkward, I know. I...I served my suspension, now I'm leaving for San Diego tomorrow and I wanted to see you before I go; to say I'm so sorry for everything that happened. I...I was disappointed, got too angry too fast and things...they got out of hand."

"Ya think?"

"That's just it Agent McGee, I didn't think, just lashed out...you were hurt, and that's on me."

"You didn't push me down the stairs Adam."

"I wasn't talking about that...the other stuff; that was all me; Corwin damaging your car, Fox leaving you without backup, wouldn't have happened if I hadn't opened my big mouth without thinking. I can never make it right..."

"Yes you can; go on with your career, be the best agent you can. What happened here wasn't all your fault."

"But I started it, if I had just stopped to think."

Tim got up from his desk and looked Adam in the eye. "And if I'd called you out on what you were saying, if I'd talked to Gibbs, to Tony; instead I kept it all inside...hindsight is always twenty-twenty. I've learned from this Adam, I hope you have too."

Adam nodded and glanced over at Gibbs. "I had a talk with Agent Gibbs."

"Ouch!"

Adam smiled for the first time. "He kind of makes sure you get the message."

"I hear that." Tim held out his hand and after a moment's hesitation Adam took it and they shook hands. "Good luck Adam, I know you'll do a great job."

"Thanks, I'm going to do my best."

With a quick wave Adam was on his way. Tim sat down once more and took a deep breath. He looked up to find Gibbs watching him, a broad smile on his face. "Good work Tim, real good work."

THE END


End file.
